The "Hotel Melanoma" moniker is a metaphor for living with my particular brand of cancer. Except for those lucky few of us deemed "cured", all we cancer survivors are guests of one of the many, many branded hotels in the "Hotel Carcinoma" chain. We can check out any time we like, but we can never leave. Meanwhile, let's be livin' it up; and please support cancer education, prevention, and treatment research.

Tutu Brothers

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

To Whine Ain't Divine

To complain is to be human. And, Lord knows, I’ve done my share of whining since checking into the Hotel Melanoma. It’s not, however, one of our most endearing human qualities. For a week or so following discharge from the hospital after a round of inpatient biochemotherapy I felt truly awful, although a little less awful each day. But I quickly learned that nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to hear it. Heck, if I got to moaning too much even my semi-loyal golden retriever would leave the room in search of peace and better company. And I found that bitching didn’t do much to improve my morale either. So I tried, albeit with mixed success, to either say something positive or humorous about my condition or shut the f#@* up. After all, I chose my course of treatment, with eyes wide open, and nobody told me it was going to be an extended stay at an all-inclusive beach resort.

I’ll end today’s rant with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Life During Wartime” from the Talking Heads…

Heard of a plan that is loaded with weapons,
packed up and ready to go
Heard of some treatments, just up the highway,
a place oncology flows
A round of drug fire, off in an instant,
I'm getting used by it now
Live in the ‘screen zone, live in the shadow,
My skin’s all over this brown

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
This ain't no fooling around
No time for tanning, or sunny lovey,
I ain't got time for that now

Transmit the dosage, to the receiver,
hope for no cancer some day
I got me PICC port, a gaggle of nurses,
I don't even know my real name
High on the pill side, the docs are loading,
everything's ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I look for a lifeline,
I might not ever get home

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
this ain't no fooling around
This ain't no Med Club, or breazy beach scene,
I ain't got time for that now

Heard about Houston? Heard about Yervoy?
Heard about IL-2 haze?
You oughta know not to stand by the Oz show
somebody con you on there
I bought the home D, some cocoa butter,
to baste a couple of days
But I ain't got no tweeters, ain't got no
headlines, ain't got no good words ‘bout rays

Why make skin hostage? Why go to fright school?
Gonna be different next time
Must write a letter, must send a postcard,
I must write something to Oz

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
this ain't no fooling around
I'd like to diss U, I'd love you scold U
I ain't got no time for tan now

Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock,
C blended with cell crowd
We got computers, we're tapping blog lines,
My old tans ain't allowed
We dress like students, we dress like housewives,
or in a suit and a tie
I changed my lifestyle, for paler times now,
I don't know what tan looks like!

Drugs make me shiver, I feel on bender,
C makes a pretty bad dream
Won't get exhausted, I'll stop my whining,
I ought to get some sleep
Get my instructions, follow directions,
then docs could change my address
Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day,
whatever they think is best
Spurned all my old cooks, what good are
old cooks? They just help C to thrive
My chest is aching, burns like a furnace,
The nurses keep me alive
Try to stay healthy, physical fitness,
don't want to catch mole disease
Try to be careful, I took those chances,
I better watch what I say

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